


FML

by sistercacao



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: M/M, POV Duo Maxwell, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2019-03-09 03:57:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13473210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sistercacao/pseuds/sistercacao
Summary: Ever wake up one morning wondering just what the hell you texted everyone the night before?





	FML

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the GW500 back in 2010, and heavily inspired by the always wonderful website Texts From Last Night.

I woke up for the third time in a month with a killer hangover in a bed that wasn't mine. Just once, couldn't we get totally smashed and stagger our way back to  _my_  house? I was getting tired of doing the walk of shame every weekend. 

The light of the late-morning sun blasted into the room from between the slats of the window blinds. I felt like a freaking vampire, the sun in my eyes was that painful. God, had I gotten drunk last night or  _what_? Never again, I promised, as usual. Never again. Fucking birthdays. Why had I decided to give Noin whiskey as a damn present? And why, oh God why, why had I thought up going shot for shot with her on  _twenty-four fucking birthday shots_? Honestly, how were we even  _alive_? The bartender probably switched the booze with water halfway out of pity. Not that it seemed to help much this morning. Somewhere else in Sanq, Noin was probably waking up with a hangover of equally epic proportions. Never a-fucking-gain.

I groaned and pulled the covers over my head. Warm, muscular arms immediately wrapped around my waist. After a moment of panic, I remembered: Oh yeah, not my bed. Not that I could remember coming back here, but after the last two times this month I'd found myself in this very room in this very apartment, I was not terribly surprised to find those arms led to the well-built shoulders and broad, naked chest of one Heero Yuy.

“Morning,” he mumbled, voice hoarse from sleep. It was too bad I was in so much pain, because morning-after Heero was someone I really enjoyed seeing. It was even worse that I couldn't remember a single thing that had gone down in this bed last night. We kept doing this moronic getting drunk and falling into bed together routine, and I  _still_  was not sure where we stood. In the sober moments between the blackout weekends of late, I worried that we were becoming Friends Who Fucked. It wasn't what I wanted at all-- I mean, I was totally in love with the guy-- but drunk me kept trying to get that message across via my dick, and I worried it wasn't getting through. I was too damn hungover this morning to start getting into any of that with him, though. Or even thinking about it. Ow, my head.

“You were the drunkest I've ever seen you last night,” Heero said, shifting around to look at me, his hair a total mess. He wore a smirk framed by five o'clock shadow. What I mean to say is, he looked really damn good. 

“Ugh, don't remind me. I feel like I've been run over by a freight train. Did I throw up?”

“Hm,” Heero replied, which was definitely not the response I was hoping for. “Once at the bar, once out the window of the taxi cab, and then once into the slot of a mailbox.”

“Aw, shit. I am so sorry.”

“Noin texted you to say she threw up four times. You declared yourself the winner.” Heero sounded more amused than pissed off. I'm not sure how that was possible, since I sounded like a total shithead even to myself. Man, I must have been stellar in bed last night for him to be this copacetic.

“Actually, you spent a lot of time on your phone last night,” Heero added. 

I felt my stomach drop to my knees. That was not a good thing to hear. I groaned, grimacing at the pain in my head, and the deep, sinking feeling of mortification that rose over me like a wave. Being on the phone all night only meant I had been doing one thing: sending idiotic drunk text messages to whoever was unlucky enough to be listed in my contacts. And, naturally, I had no idea what I had said or to whom.

“Anyway, I'm going to take a shower,” Heero continued nonchalantly. “I'll leave the door open in case you feel sick.”

Heero Yuy, the saint, ladies and gentlemen. I kind of felt like I wanted to barf right that second, actually. But not before I checked my phone to survey the damage. Then, if I hadn't died of embarrassment, I could go ahead and throw up to my heart's content.   
  
“Thanks, man,” I squeaked out. 

Heero gave me a funny look and slid out of bed. I allowed myself the luxury of watching his perfect ass saunter to the bathroom before I leapt up as fast as my pounding head would allow and grabbed desperately for my phone on the night stand.  
  
The first thing I noticed is that I had approximately a million unread text messages, including quite a few from someone whose name I had changed last night to PUKE QUEEN. Based on the recap from Heero, I assumed that was Noin.  
  
Before I could read those text messages, though, I had to find out just what embarrassing shit I had written last night. It took a while to scroll to the beginning, and I made sure to wait until I heard the sound of water running in the bathroom before I opened the first one. Paranoid? Yeah, maybe a little. Sue me.   
  
_This is a mass text: Does anyone know where I am?_  
  
Okay, stupid, but not too bad. I opened the next one.  
  
_Quatre: In the event that I do not make it through tonight's Great Preventers Whiskey Showdown Bonanza, I am going to text you every time I take a shot for posterity's sake. This text is for[#5](https://www.livejournal.com/rsearch/?tags=%235)._  
  
Sure enough, I had continued to text Quatre with every shot I took. Also, pretty moronic, but not as bad as it could have been. Maybe I had gotten out of this drunk-text extravaganza relatively unscathed.   
  
_Noin, I have now made a mailbox my barf bitch, I think that means I win your birthday!_  
  
God I was such a jackass. I opened the next one.  
  
_Wu-man I am sorry about your car... I will explain tomorrow._  
  
Yikes. These were getting worse and worse. I hoped I had been joking with that last one. God knows what I had done otherwise.   
  
There were a few more obnoxious texts to Wufei, Hilde, and Noin, most of which read, “pick up your phone!” in some variation. Not that I had anything important to say, I probably just wanted to tell them I loved them. Or maybe I wanted to brag about my drinking prowess some more.   
  
I was just starting to get toward the end, thinking that I had actually managed not to put my foot entirely into my mouth last night, when I got to one addressed to Quatre which stopped my burgeoning good mood dead in its tracks.  
  
_Who has two thumbs and is about to get laid? This guy! Three guesses as to who is doing the laying._  
  
But, of course, that hadn’t been enough for drunk Duo. No, I had had to go ahead and elaborate.  
  
_I’ll give you a hint: Starts with an H and ends with an.... eero Yuy. Hope you can figure the rest out on your own because I am about to have my hands full! If you know what I mean._  
  
Well, that was that. I had just gone right ahead and told the world that I was sleeping with Heero. I was never going to drink again. Actually, I probably wouldn’t even get the chance, since Heero was definitely going to murder me in cold blood as soon as he found out from Quatre. Or Wufei, or Hilde, or even Trowa, who I had all apparently decided to send that same message to. Great. How could I possibly run damage control at this point? Maybe just by jumping out the window and getting it over with.  
  
I closed my phone and tossed it back in the general direction of the night stand. I didn’t even bother to check any of the responses-- just thinking about them was making me nauseous enough. Heero was still mercifully in the shower, which at least gave me some time to think.   
  
He would definitely find out from somebody that I had unwittingly outed him and our-- liaisons?-- to our circle of friends. Even if Quatre, who didn’t even know what the term “poker face” meant, managed to keep this one under wraps, Wufei would  _definitely_  say something, probably in retaliation for whatever horrible thing I had done to his car last night. Hell, he would do it just to see the look on my face.   
  
So the other option was to tell him myself. It wasn’t like I’d never held a self-destruct button in my hands before... just that this would be the first time I actually pressed it. Oh well, I’d had a good run of it at least. Twenty years old, not too shabby, right? I’d really expected to get knocked off much sooner, actually. And I’d even managed to cross ‘sleeping with Heero Yuy’ off the bucket list before I did.  
  
All right, if I was going to do this, I was damn well going to do it while Heero was in the shower. Getting killed by a naked Heero wasn’t the worst way to go out, at least.  
  
I picked myself up off the bed, throbbing head and all, and staggered into the bathroom, feeling like I was walking down death row. Heero looked a little surprised when I pulled back the shower curtain instead of curling around the toilet seat, which was what I actually really would have preferred to do at that point. Hot water ran in rivulets down his tanned skin, along the crevices of his muscles, following their lines down past his bellybutton... yeah, this definitely wasn’t the worst way to go out.  
  
Well, now what the hell did I say?  
  
“I’m sorry,” I began.   
  
Heero just blinked at me through his wet hair. I forced myself to continue.  
  
“I... uh... I wrote some pretty stupid shit to our friends last night.”  
  
Now the guy had a scary little smirk on his face, and I did  _not_  want to know what it meant.  
  
“I... may or may not have told some people about... this.”   
  
Heero just stared.  
  
“Are you going to kill me?” I blurted out. “I’m a fucking idiot, I know, and you’re probably pissed, and you should be, but I really don’t want to die so maybe we can just agree that I’m a terrible person and if you don’t want to talk to me ever again I can’t say I would blame you--”  
  
“Duo, shut up.”  
  
“‘Kay,” I gulped.  
  
He peered at me through the steam and his crazy hair for a moment, and then he  _laughed_. I have to say, I was terrified. I have heard this man laugh before, and it usually was followed by making some man-shaped smears on the pavement.  
  
Instead, he said, “I already know.”  
  
“Huh?” I replied articulately. “How do you know?  _I_  only just found out what a moron I was last night...”  
  
Then, even through the hangover haze, it dawned on me.  
  
“This isn’t the first time I’ve done this, is it?”  
  
“No.” Heero’s smirk widened-- well, comparatively. Most people probably couldn’t tell the difference. “But last time you used  _my_ phone.”  
  
“Holy  _shit_.”  
  
“I’m not going to kill you.”  
  
Gee,  _thanks_ , Yuy. You’re a pal. “You’re not mad?”  
  
“I would rather you didn’t drink so much, but now that people know we’re dating, I think they would naturally assume that we were physically intimate anyway.”  
  
For a second, I thought I was having a heart attack. I mean, my chest  _hurt_. In fact, I didn’t hear most of what Heero had said, because my mind had just kind of exploded after ‘we’re dating’ had come out of his mouth.  
  
“What did you say?”  
  
“You really shouldn’t get so drunk every weekend,” he repeated.  
  
Before I knew it, I was hopping right into the shower and pulling Heero’s warm, wet body against me.  
  
“The other thing,” I mumbled, and then covered his mouth with mine. I didn’t know if it was the steam or the kiss or the word ‘dating’ that made my head spin. I mean, Heero Yuy said that we were  _dating_ , hot damn!  
  
“I’m not drinking anymore,” I said eventually.  
  
Heero snorted. “You say that every weekend.”  
  
“Christ, I do, don’t I?” I sighed. “I mean it this time, though.” Especially because I wouldn’t need it to get Heero in bed with me anymore. Next time we woke up together, I was damn sure not going to be hungover.  
  
“And the next time we go out,” I added, pulling him toward me for another kiss, “I am leaving my phone at home.”


End file.
